


Say It To My Face

by sunnyfreeze



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Izzie is tangential only, Not A Fix-It, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyfreeze/pseuds/sunnyfreeze
Summary: Jo confronts Alex after the letter and That Episode(may or may not eventually become a longer fix-it fic)
Relationships: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson Karev
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Say It To My Face

Jo knocks on the door of the giant, white ranch house. She’s standing on the kind of porch that she dreamed about as a teenager living in her car. When she was on the plane, she felt so many feelings that she couldn’t categorize them. They were just energy. Now, she feels blank. That’s how she felt that day at work, too, after putting the letter in her pocket. 

She knocks again. She was given the address. This is the right address.

A voice calls out from inside. “Coming!” 

It’s not Izzie. It can’t be Izzie. It sounds too young, and the universe can’t possibly hate Jo that much.

Maybe it does.

But no, it doesn’t. The door opens, and a teenager stands in the doorway. “Hello?”

“Hi. I need to talk to Alex Karev. Is he here?”

The girl smiles at her. “Oh, no, not yet. He’ll be home soon, though. Maybe 20 minutes. You can wait inside or—” Laughter erupts behind her. Jo can’t see the sources, but she knows.

Jo doesn’t let her finish. “I’ll wait out here.” She was given the address.

Jo walks to her rental car. She turns away before she can see the laughter. She doesn’t know what to do. She paces. She checks her phone. Soon, or maybe ten hours later, a truck pulls up. 

Alex is driving, and he’s making that face he makes, like he’s going into battle. Next to him, Izzie is his opposite in every way. Jo can’t look at her. She doesn’t want to look at Alex either, but for different reasons. And she has to look at Alex, for now. She came here to look at Alex. And to. . . to something else at Alex. She doesn’t have to look at Izzie, though, so she doesn’t. She vaguely registers that Izzie rushes into the house, captures the laughter erupting from the home onto the porch, and wrangles it inside, as Alex slowly moves out of the car to stand in front of Jo when it is silent again.

“Hi, Jo.” He looks reluctant, braced. He gave her the address.

Jo opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She suddenly can’t remember any of the things she wanted to say to him, the things that were circling her brain nonstop since she read the letter, things that she recited to herself over and over on the long drive here, the things she thought she would never be able to forget.

“Jo, I—” 

“No, Alex. You had your chance to say your piece.” It’s coming back to her, in pieces, fragments, not as beautiful and biting as she wanted. What she wanted to say to him. How she felt. Feels. “You wrote me a letter. A freaking letter. After the year I’ve had, after the year—” it’s not about him, “the best you could do was a piece of paper?”

“I—”

“That’s rhetorical. I know it wasn’t your best. Your best would have been talking to me. Telling me about your kids, about Izzie. Asking me to figure something out. Asking them to move to Seattle, or asking me to move here with you. Working out some long distance thing. Not keeping secrets and then suddenly giving me some crap about leaving me because you love Izzie. I understand why you’re moving here.” Her voice has gotten soft, but he doesn’t deserve that from her anymore. Jo mentally shakes herself. “I mean, I really understand because clearly ‘figuring it out’ doesn’t matter to you anymore. But for the record, if you had still loved me and treated me with the respect I deserve, I would’ve moved out here with you. Hell, I would have bunked with Izzie, if that’s what was necessary for the kids. This bullshit, by the way,” she gestures at the space between her and Alex, “is not necessary. And I know you know that.” 

Jo pauses, staring at him, both to emphasize her point and to gather her thoughts without him thinking that she’s welcoming an interruption. It’s useless. There is only buzzing in her brain and fire in her eyes and pressure at her chest. She sets her jaw. Maybe if she remembers what she’s forgotten to say, she can send him a stupid letter.

He gave her the address.

“I’m not—I’m not here to try to convince you to come back. You treated me like trash this past month, and I still don’t know why, but I do know I don’t want that back. I never understood why they used to call you Evil Spawn, you know that. I get it now though. She only ever knew you as Evil Spawn. I guess being with her turned you back into that. Now I get to know you as Evil Spawn too. Maybe she wants to be married to Evil Spawn. But I don’t.” 

Alex is still looking at her, obediently silent. His face is still a source of comfort to her. Usually when his jaw and his eyes look like this, they’re going into battle together, as a team. It is its own brand of evil that he did all this from a distance, so that even though she intellectually knows that the hurt came from him, her body doesn’t associate those eyes with the feelings she currently has. Jo takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a heavy blink. 

“Goodbye, Alex.” 

She turns to go. 

“Are you going to change your last name?” 

He asks it quickly, like he’s afraid she’ll stop him, but she doesn’t. She blinks at him and breathes. She hadn’t thought about that. She looks down, and realizes she’s still wearing the rings. She does not look at Alex’s hand.

“I—I don’t know. The point was to have the name of someone who loved me. Wanted me. It used to be true.” Alex makes as if to interrupt, but Jo just continues. “It used to be true, which is more than any other name I’ve had. But I don’t know if that’s enough.” She shrugs.

“I don’t mind—”

“It’s not about you anymore, Alex.”

He nods. Looks away. “Well, whichever you choose, I still need—”

Jo rolls her eyes. “You’ll get your divorce, Alex. Don’t worry.”

She doesn’t say goodbye again. She just gets back into the rental car and drives down their long driveway. Once she’s a couple miles away, she pulls over and cries. It feels more like a release, of energy and feelings, than like sadness. It does not feel like freedom.

She’s back in Seattle before anyone knows she was gone.


End file.
